


Within Reach

by archfaith



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, F/M, Falling In Love, Father-Son Relationship, Holding Hands, Rare Pairings, Soft Din Djarin, Talking, Touch-Starved Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archfaith/pseuds/archfaith
Summary: This story takes place during Chapter 13 (The Jedi), during the night between Din and Grogu finding Ahsoka, through to the next morning. What could have happened between Din and Ahsoka that night? Did they talk? Did they find some common ground...or more?
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Ahsoka Tano, Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Din Djarin & Ahsoka Tano, Din Djarin & Grogu, Din Djarin/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 26
Kudos: 303





	Within Reach

“Let him sleep,” Ahsoka says softly. “I’ll test him in the morning.”

Din sighs as he looks over to the child--Grogu--with resignation.

“Alright,” he agrees, even though Ahsoka’s words are a statement, not a question. “Morning, then.” For a moment he feels like behaving like he used to--with impatience. _Why can’t you do the test now?_ he thinks briefly, before closing himself to that query. His mind flashes back to the way he would have reacted before he met Grogu--before he became a father. Caring for the child has made him softer, and the trait of patience--which had only figured into his life as a bounty hunter, not as a person--had found its way into his heart.

“Patience, Mandalorian,” he hears Ahsoka say, softly. The tone she uses is calming and quieting; less of a command than a reassurance. Besides--the child is falling asleep by the fire. From where he sits on the little rock between him and Ahsoka, Din can see that the child is exhausted, and for good reason. It had been a long day for him, and even though he had not physically exerted himself, Din knew that it had been mentally taxing. He couldn’t imagine what it had taken for him to converse with Ahsoka, through--whatever it had been called. _The Force?_

Din stands up, stretching his legs with weariness. “Okay, kid,” he says, still unable--still reluctant--to use the child’s real name. Although finding out his real name is an unexpected surprise, Din isn’t sure if he wanted to know in the first place. Knowing his real name, confirming that Grogu had a real life and future outside of the few months that Din has known him--it’s almost too much for him to bear. Not to mention the dark years of his life, which were so traumatic he couldn’t even remember them. “Time for bed.” The child looks up at him with quiet, sleepy eyes. Din walks over to him and picks him up, nestling him in the familiar spot near his chestplate.

Din turns back to Ahsoka. “Thank you,” he says, with a curt nod. He still isn’t sure what to make of Ahsoka Tano. Bo-Katan had only told him her name, not what she was like, her demeanor. Din had never even heard the word _Jedi_ until the Armorer had told him about them, back on Nevarro. He doesn’t know what to expect from her, and can hardly begin to fathom the wizardry she was using when she attacked him.

He still has misgivings about trusting her. But what she had learned from Grogu was more than he could have ever learned on his own.

Ahsoka stands up, and Din admires the soundless way she moves. “Where is your ship?” she asks. “Is it near?”

Din cocks his head. “Yes,” he says. “Just a few klicks from here.” He does not know what compels him to speak further, but he lets the words tumble out nonetheless. “Do you want to come back with us?”

Ahsoka smiles. “I don’t think I’ve been invited back to anyone’s place before,” she says as she stands, grasping the lantern with one hand.

It takes Din a moment to interpret what she means. “I mean--” he begins, frowning underneath his helmet. “It’s not like that, I didn’t mean to imply--”

Ahsoka chuckles. “I know,” she says playfully. “And yes. I’ll walk back with you.”

Din sighs to himself. Making smalltalk with people has never been a strong point of his. And it has never needed to be. Bounty hunting doesn’t lend itself to idle chatter. He never needed to use finesse to get the information he desired. Usually just the sight of him would leave most people breathless. And if his appearance wasn’t enough, slapping a few credits on the table would definitely get him what he wanted. He would get information, identify his mark, take them down, and leave.

Ahsoka raises the lantern slightly, and keeps pace with Din as he starts off on the path. He remembers the way back to the Razor Crest by sight, even in the dark--one needs to be skilled in memory to be a bounty hunter, and Din had honed his skills over decades. It’s not far, all things considered--but far enough to exhaust anyone in less than good physical condition.

The child--Grogu--is already asleep, his head buried against Din’s chestplate. Din looks down at him, relieved that he has another day--just one more day--to spend with him. One more day. And that’s all. He tries not to think too deeply about that statement. Grogu had never belonged to him to begin with, and besides--the kid would be better off with a life of guided learning and instruction with a mentor who knew his abilities. Not running across the galaxy with a bounty hunter who knew nothing about the Force, pursued by the Empire, leading a life of uncertainty and fear.

He has to do what’s best for Grogu.

“The way he clings to you...it’s like he’s known you for his entire life,” Ahsoka says softly, cutting into Din’s thoughts.

Din shakes his head. “I’m younger than he is,” he replies. “He’s fifty years old. We’ve only known each for a few months.”

“A few months is enough time to build trust,” Ahsoka says, continuing to look down at Grogu with adoring eyes. “Grogu trusts you completely.”

“Did he tell you that?” Din asks, amused.

“He didn’t say it quite like that,” Ahsoka replies. “But when I asked him about you--” She looks down to the path they’re walking on, with a slight smile. “--I felt his thoughts loud and clear.”

“Yeah? What were they?”

“Trust,” she replies. “Warmth. And love.”

Din feels something stir in his chest as they continue along the path. Even though he objectively knows that this is the right step to take for Grogu, he can’t help but wish that the child wasn’t a Jedi at all. If he was just a normal boy with no abilities--then perhaps Din would have found some way to keep him, to be a real father to him.

But he has to face reality--that Grogu needs more than he can give.

\--

Din and Ahsoka pass most of the trip in relative silence, Besides the natural sounds of the forest, the only other sounds are the creaking of the lantern when Ahsoka swings it back and forth, and Grogu’s gentle snoring against Din’s chest. Din is still mulling over the events of the day, trying to piece them together in his mind. Ahsoka seems to understand that silence is his natural disposition. The two keep pace with each other in a lightly contemplative state.

The terrain is rough but manageable. In about an hour the Razor Crest comes into view, barely visible through the dark mist. “There it is,” Din says, as they approach the ship.

“You came in that thing? You’re braver than I thought,” Ahsoka remarks, though Din thinks he senses some admiration in that statement.

“It may not look like much, but it’s got it where it counts,” Din replies, although he knows he’s only making excuses. It’s a wonder the Razor Crest can still fly.

As they approach, the walkway into the ship drops, revealing the small hold with its compartments and supplies. Din knows that he had only asked Ahsoka to walk them to the ship. This should have been it. But now, he turns to her with a questioning glance. “Do you want to help me put him to bed?”

Ahsoka seems slightly surprised, but nods. “I’d like that,” she agrees.

Din isn’t sure why he trusts her this much, but decides to go with his instincts. He advances up the walkway as Ahsoka leaves the lantern on the ground outside and follows.

Din strides up to the small bunk where he and the child sleep. “He sleeps in here,” he explains to Ahsoka as the door slides open. The bunk holds little more than a threadbare bed roll and a torn blanket. The makeshift hammock that Din had constructed for the child dangles above the main compartment. “It’s not much, but…”

“Grogu doesn’t need much,” Ahsoka says softly. She looks on as Din gently lays Grogu down onto the hammock. Grogu stirs slightly, letting out a small sigh.

Din arranges the small pillows behind his head before grabbing the blanket and tucking it around the sleeping child. “He likes to sleep with something covering him,” he explains to Ahsoka, even though she has not inquired. “I think it makes him feel safe.”

Ahsoka nods. “He feels safe because he’s with you,” she replies.

Din doesn’t know quite how to respond to this, but continues. “I usually have to rock him a bit to get him to sleep,” he says, unsure why he’s telling her any of this. “When he’s tired, he goes out like a light. But if he feels like staying up, it can take hours.”

Ahsoka’s eyes rest on the sleeping infant. “It looks like this is one of those nights where he’ll definitely sleep well,” she whispers. She extends a finger out, gently stroking the child’s ear. “Goodnight, little one.”

Din watches her caress the child’s ear. He’s usually on his guard when it comes to people wanting to touch the child, or hold him. Even when it’s someone he trusts, like Greef Karga or Peli Motto. But, as he watches Ahsoka with the child, he realizes that he does not have qualms about her being near the child whatsoever. In the space of only a few minutes, he had gone from wondering if he should be this trusting of her, to _knowing_ that he could be this trusting of her.

Ahsoka finishes saying goodnight, and turns to head down the walkway. Din looks after her. He is about to bid her goodnight when she turns to face him. “Now I’d like to ask you a few questions,” she says brightly. “Will you come out and sit with me for a bit?”

“Where?” Din asks, furrowing his brow.

Ahsoka looks around the perimeter of the landing area. “Just right here, next to the ship,” she offers. “I always welcome company. I usually never have it these days.”

Din had not expected this request from her, but it wasn’t entirely surprising. He imagines that a Jedi would have little contact with a Mandalorian these days. Ordinarily he would have turned her down, but he had to admit to his curiosity about her, and about the Jedi Order in general. This could be his only chance he had to explore what exactly they were like.

“Sure,” he agrees. And besides--if he was going to give Grogu over to this Jedi for training and care, it would put his mind at ease if he knew more about her. Din briefly turns towards Grogu, who was snoring slightly in the hammock. Well--they were only going to be a few paces from the ship. And if Grogu wakes up during the night, which was likely, Din would be near enough to go to him quickly. Although he isn’t sure if they have any blue milk left in the rations compartment, which was Grogu’s preferred nighttime treat.

\--

There is a small clearing of logs near the area that Din had landed in. Ahsoka sits down on one, setting the lantern in front of her. Din comes to sit next to her. Being this near to her finally, in a calm situation where they hadn’t been talking about the hard circumstances of Grogu’s life, Din could take a closer look at Ahsoka.

He’s seen Togruta individuals before, in spaceports and other cities of trade and commerce. But Ahsoka is the first one that he’s seen up close. He admires the curve of the montrals against her head, the elegant white markings that run across her face. Perhaps to others, she would be considered beautiful. But Din could not call her _beautiful_ \--not because she wasn’t, but because that term seemed vague and evasive. In Din’s mind, _beautiful_ is a term one resorts to when they can’t think of something more particular.

No--Ahsoka isn’t beautiful, she is striking and impressive. Not just her appearance, but the entire aura around her. Although Din isn’t Force sensitive, he can still feel the intense power that radiates from Ahsoka, even as she sits perfectly still. _Fascinating. Elegant._ Words that Din had never even used in his vocabulary stir in his mind as he sits down next to her.

He briefly wonders what Ahsoka thinks of him as she begins to speak. “You can start by telling me your name,” she says encouragingly.

“Ah.” Din realizes that not many people ask him that directly. They were content enough calling him “Mando”, and the less he had to tell people, the better. Although the nickname was mildly annoying, he had learned to embrace it. People were obsessed with names, and once they had something to call him, they finally seemed satisfied.

Din considers asking Ahsoka to do the same--to just call him Mando--but then decides against it. She is someone who deserves to know the truth. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

Ahsoka smiles again, which Din finds entirely disarming. “It’s good to meet you, Din,” she says, as though they hadn’t spent the last few hours together, talking about Grogu. “Will you tell me about yourself?”

 _Tell me about yourself._ It’s a loaded question, and one that isn’t often asked of him. Din is much more accustomed to hearing questions such as _What’s your price?_ or _Who are you looking for?_ His clientele didn’t want to know his life story--they only cared about the services he could provide for them. A hired gun who could do the jobs quickly and efficiently.

So he looks down, struggling to figure out where to begin. “Well,” he starts. He decides that he isn’t going to start talking about the attack on Aq Ventina, about being orphaned--it was fine to leave that part out, for now. “I was part of a Mandalorian covert on Nevarro.”

Ahsoka nods. “Death Watch?”

Din looks up at her sharply. “That’s the name Bo-Katan used for my covert,” he admits. That was a shock in and of itself--discovering that the way of life he had always known was considered a religious cult by other sects of Mandalorians. “How did you know?”

“You haven’t taken your helmet off,” Ahsoka replies. “And Grogu seems to think that’s your real face.”

Din nods. “He’s never seen it,” he admits.

“Tell me more.”

Din looks over to her. “Why are you interested?” he asks. He isn’t annoyed, but the way she’s asking is curious.

Ahsoka doesn’t avoid the question. “I’m interested because the way Grogu feels about you…” she says, her voice trailing. “It’s incredible. And I want to know why he does.”

“Mmph,” Din responds. Ahsoka is merely curious, and she admits to it. But they have a connection now, with the Child serving as the conduit between them. “Then maybe I could learn more about you, too.”

“You can,” she agrees. “I’m not one to pass up conversation.”

Conversation is also something Din is unpracticed with. When Din does choose to engage in smalltalk, it’s only a means to an end--usually nothing more than a gateway to a sexual encounter later. If he wanted to, he could strike up conversations with someone he was interested in. He would ask all the familiar questions-- _where are you from? Why are you here?_ As if he cared about those answers. And then he would quickly cut to the chase. _Let’s go out back. My ship is just outside._ Well--there hasn’t been any of that mischief since Grogu had come into his life, and Din finds that he doesn’t really miss it.

Asking questions with sincerity, in an actual attempt to get to know someone--that was new for him. He decides to start slow. “Where are you from?” he asks, echoing her prior question to him.

Ahsoka stretches her legs out in front of her. “I was born on Shili, the homeworld of the Togruta,” she begins. “But I spent most of my early life on Coruscant. I was raised at the Jedi Temple, just like Grogu.”

“But you never met him there? Never even saw him?”

Ahsoka shakes her head. “There were thousands of Padawans,” she replies. “And it looks like Grogu spent his entire life in the nursery wing. By the time I arrived at the temple, I was too old for the nursery--I was sent to the youngling dormitories. I would have gone on to become a Padawan while he was still learning how to walk.”

“Padawan?” Din asks. All this new terminology is confusing for him.

“A Jedi learner,” Ahsoka explains. “An apprentice.”

“So you were an apprentice,” Din confirms. At least this is a word he understands.

“Yes,” she says. “I was apprenticed to a Jedi Knight.” She stops curtly, and Din notes from her body language that this is a painful memory for her. Well--better not to open that door, if need be.

He shifts slightly. “Were you going to ask me anything else?”

Ahsoka seems to come back to herself swiftly. “Sure,” she says, pausing for a few seconds. “Does it get tiring, not being able to remove your armor?” she finally asks.

“It never used to,” Din replies. “But now…maybe.” It’s strange how his armor had always felt like such a protective covering to him. He took pride in it, let it envelop him in security, knowing that he would never need to take it off. But after meeting Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorians, and seeing them without their helmets--he felt shaken to the core. The armor had started weighing more on his body after that, and what had once seemed like a shield is now a prison.

“So you’ve never removed your helmet in front of anyone else?”

Din nods. “Never.”

Ahsoka pauses again. “I suppose the question is--do you want to?”

“I don’t know,” Din admits. “After meeting Bo-Katan and the others--sometimes I want to.” He notes how odd it is, how open he’s being with Ahsoka after only knowing her for a few hours.

Ahsoka nods. “Maybe you’re not there yet,” she whispers. “But maybe...someday you will be.”

Din had been anticipating that Ahsoka would ask him to try taking his helmet off in front of her. This was a common request among people who didn’t know any better, who did not know what an insult it was. But Ahsoka seems to understand the power of the armor to his psyche, and he’s grateful that she sees his hesitation.

Ahsoka leans back, and Din realizes that she’s waiting for another question. He thinks for a few moments and settles on one that might yield some insight. “Were you a mother, once?”

Ahsoka seems surprised by this. “No,” she says swiftly. “No, I never was. But why do you ask that?”

“Just the way you hold the child,” Din answers. “You seem like you have experience with children.”

Ahsoka laughs. “Well, I had one mission where I had to care for a Hutt baby,” she says with a chuckle. “And the older younglings at the temple were always trained to look after the younger ones. But no...I’ve never had a child of my own. We Jedi are not supposed to form attachments.”

Din is confused. “Attachments?” he repeated. “So Jedi weren’t permitted to have children.”

Ahsoka shakes her head. “We were not even permitted to marry or carry on emotional relationships. It was forbidden.” She lowers her head. “I know of a few Jedi who had intimate, emotional relationships with others. But it could never go anywhere meaningful. That would only lead down a dark path.”

“How do you mean?”

“Let’s just say that having feelings get in the way of one’s judgment,” Ahsoka says, although Din knows there must be far more to the story than she’s telling.

But he accepts her vague statement with a nod. “I understand that.” He would let her set the pace for what she’s comfortable talking about. The Jedi life seemed like a lonely existence, although he had to ask himself--were Mandalorians that much different?

“What about you?” Ahsoka asks. “Were you a father before?”

“No,” Din says. “I never had a child of my own.” _Until now._

Ahsoka seems to feel this sentiment. “Until now,” she repeats, as though she had felt the thought form in his head. “Parents are people who love children, and raise them. You _are_ a father, Din.”

Din smiles. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he says. “Sometimes, I don’t feel like I’m equipped for this.”

Ahsoka sighs. “I don’t think any one of us is prepared for anything until we actually try it,” she answers. “It’s only then that we really learn.”

Din is prepared to let this simmer in his mind for a moment, but Ahsoka immediately launches into a new topic. “If your group of Mandalorians isn’t permitted to remove their armor, how does the community grow?”

Din cocks his head. It’s an odd question, in his opinion. She’s basically asking _Is your sect of Mandalorians allowed to have sex?_ He finds it abnormal for a Jedi to take an interest in this, considering what she had told him earlier. But Din decides that there isn’’t much harm in talking about it, as long as he doesn’t get too personal.

“We are permitted to have relationships with others,” he says slowly. Back when he had been running with Ran’s crew, he had had numerous encounters with Xi’an, the violet-skinned Twi’lek assassin. And there had been others besides her--short encounters in brothels and bars, with men, women, and other genders, in between assignments--or sometimes on assignment. But having sex didn’t require that all parts be exposed--there were a few ways of getting around that obstacle. “But we don’t need to take off all your armor for that. Just the parts that matter.”

“So that’s the only part of you that touches,” Ahsoka says. “Everything else is still covered up.”

“Pretty much,” Din affirms.

“It seems unnatural,” Ahsoka continues. “If your idea of being intimate with someone is not being able to touch them, or hold them.”

“But we are allowed to have romantic relationships,” Din says. “We are allowed to marry and form family units. We just can’t touch each other. So in many ways, it’s still less restrictive than the practices of your Jedi Order.”

Ahsoka smiles. “Well, I suppose that’s true. If you ask me, neither situation is ideal.”

“They both have flaws,” Din admits. “But these are the creeds we choose to live by, right?”

Ahsoka seems contemplative on this. “They are,” she says slowly. After a few seconds she looks up. “Does that mean you’ve never held anyone’s hand before?”

Din turns to her. “In my adult life? No, not without my gloves on.”

Ahsoka’s eyes wander to his gloved right hand, and he senses some mischief in her eyes. “Do you want to?” she asks, with a slight smile. She looks younger than her years when she speaks like this.

Din cocks his head, unsure where she’s going with this. “Why?”

“You’ll need practice if you want to hold Grogu’s hand one day,” she says. A pause. “And also because I just want to. You’re intriguing to me.”

Din doesn’t reply for a few seconds. He feels his heart catch in his chest, oddly. It’s a harmless request, but he feels his heart begin to beat faster all the same.

It was funny--on any dive bar on some Outer Rim planet, Din would not be surprised to have people proposition him for sex. It would be anonymous, meaningless, and satisfying, and he could deal with that. That was his old life.

But here they are on Corvus, sitting under the stars amongst the burned out tree stumps. His son is sleeping nearby aboard the ship. And this woman, this Jedi, is merely asking to hold his hand. For some reason it surprises him more than any other offer he had never been given.

 _Well...it can’t hurt, I guess._ Wordlessly he raises his right hand, his left coming over to peel off the thick glove that had encased his fingers to the world for years. He takes it off and lays the glove next to him on the log. Even though removing his glove was a far cry from removing his helmet, he still feels naked seeing the bare fingers. He spent most of his life with his entire body covered, and even the parts he exposed for sexual encounters didn’t seem quite as private as his hands.

He offers his hand to Ahsoka, palm up as he rests it on his knee. Ahsoka silently raises her left hand, sliding the fingerless glove off her wrist in one smooth motion. She brings her fingers gently against his wrist, letting them linger as they gently begin to drum against the skin, very slowly traveling upwards towards his palm.

Din feels a tingling in his spine as Ahsoka keeps her eyes down, to the task at hand. Whatever she’s doing, it feels good. Good in that Din feels himself opening up automatically, his body responding in ways he hasn’t foreseen. It’s like an electric pulse traveling up his hand, making him nervous, making him anticipate.

Finally her hand aligns with his, her fingers sliding into place as she curls them into his. He responds automatically, closing his fingers, grasping her hand. At first his grasp is light, but as he gets more and more used to this unfamiliar sensation, he tightens it until it’s firm, squeezing her hand as hard, feeling her skin against his. Ahsoka squeezes back.

They sit silently for a few moments, the only movement between them being the occasional tap of a finger against skin.

“How does this feel?” Ahsoka asks, looking up at him.

Din looks away slightly. “Scandalous,” he says, letting the amusement carry into his tone.

Ahsoka smiles lightly. “Good,” she repeats. “I like the way it feels too.”

Perhaps they were not so different, the Mandalorians and the Jedi. Both destined to live lives with long periods of loneliness, punctuated by momentary feelings of connection to other people. But still--those moments had to be fleeting to be treasured. Too much of a good thing, and it would become common, unspecial.

“No matter how long I go without holding anyone’s hand,” Ahsoka says softly. “I never forget how.”

“Our bodies remember things long after our minds forget them,” Din says absently. He had read that in a textbook once. Or heard it somewhere, who knew.

It was absurd. All they’re doing is holding hands, but as far as Din is concerned, it seems like they’re doing something far more obscene. Still--Din keeps squeezing her hand tight, welcoming the unfamiliar feeling of skin against skin. It’s almost intoxicating to him, and he wonders if Ahsoka can feel the change in his mood.

Ahsoka merely smiles down at their entwined fingers, and grasps his hand tighter.

Just holding hands.

After a few minutes, Ahsoka gently starts to disentangle her hand from Din’s. He finds that as soon as she tries to pull away, his fingers reach to bring her hand back, firmly in that clasped position. Ahsoka chuckles. “Not willing to let me go, huh?”

Din sighs. “Maybe I’m starting to get attached,” he says as he releases his grip on Ahsoka, letting their hands fall. The entire thing is possibly the most intimate encounter of his life--and even though he still doesn’t know Ahsoka, still has no idea about the things she’s done and seen, he now knows that possibly--maybe--he could know, one day.

Ahsoka lets her eyes wander down to their previously entwined hands. “Perhaps there will be another time, or place,” she says encouragingly, and Din feels convinced that she can read his thoughts. “When we will meet again.”

Din chuckles. “The child had better be there.”

Ahsoka nods. “Well...I’ll have him, or you will.”

Din smiles at her underneath his helmet, and wonders if she can feel it. Whatever he had been expecting--it hadn’t been this. Just talking to Ahsoka, just listening to her--it put his mind at ease. Temporarily.

But for now--some encounters were best cut short, lest they drag out too long. Din stands, sliding his glove back onto his hand. “I think we should get some rest,” he says.

Ahsoka nods as she straps her fingerless glove back into her hand. She grabs the lantern and lifts it. “Meet me near the clearing tomorrow at dawn,” she instructs.

Din nods. “I’ll have him ready.”

The Mandalorian and the Jedi face each other. Ahsoka holds her hand out, and Din takes it. And even though their gloves are back on, even though their skin is no longer touching--Din can still feel a hint of that electric spark tingling against his back.

“Goodnight, Ahsoka Tano,” he says softly.

“Goodnight, Din Djarin,” she answers, letting her hand drop. She turns and walks away from the ship, weaving her way through the fallen tree stumps and logs with her lantern.

Din watches her until she disappears, then walks back over to the Razor Crest. He wavers slightly, feeling the slight imbalance that Ahsoka has brought to his mind. He’s confused, and doesn’t know quite what to think about what had occurred. They haven’t done anything they need to feel shame over--so why did it feel so secretive and strange?

Perhaps this is just part of a Jedi’s mysteries.

Mounting the walkway, he immediately goes towards the bunk. Grogu is still sleeping peacefully in the hammock. Din sighs as he looks over to the sleeping child. “She’ll take good care of you when the time comes,” Din whispers, knowing that he’s talking more for himself than for the child’s benefit. “And you’ll always have me, no matter what.” He reaches down, pats the child gently on the head. “Come what may.”

Grogu rolls over, still fast asleep. Din raises the walkway and climbs into the bunk, sliding the door down. Time to get some rest. Long day tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this after watching Chapter 13, partially due to Din and Ahsoka's lovely chemistry and the way they looked like proud parents to little Grogu. This was originally going to be a bit spicier than just holding hands, but the way I looked at it--I really feel like this is really the most they would get up to. Scandalous, huh?


End file.
